11.10.2011

Era una ciudad muerta / Francisco Pérez Perdomo

It was a dead city

It was a dead cityinhabited only by ghosts.The past was whisperingin the door latchesand running freely through the streets.The moan of the windwas dragging somnambulant beingsthrough the patios.Walls from other centuries were speakingand yawning in the dust.Wrapped in their big earsthe bats were sleepingin the eaves of the archaic houses.Through the open holesin the stone parapets,the old men simulating enormous beetlesappeared, lengthened themselveswith their canes and hobbling reachedthe center of the plaza.The melody of the canal and the bell towerof the ancient churchwith their scales were lifting them in the airand swinging them through the ages.